Page 62 of Edge of Desperation

“Sounds like Jaxson is a very smart man.”

My cheeks burn hot. “I guess so.”

“How did you feel when you heard him say that?”

“Honestly?” I blow out a breath. “A little pissed.”

“Why?”

“He never said it tome. Sure, he’d say, ‘Good job’ when I finally got a move right, but for the most part, it was always, ‘Keep working at it.’ I had to hear it secondhand.”

“I can see why that would be frustrating.”

“We talked,” I say. “I told him about what happened, things I haven’t been able to talk about with anyone, not even you.”

She nods. “We open up at our own pace. You’re not on anyone’s schedule but your own, and there’s no rule saying you have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. That being said, I’m glad you found someone you could open up to,” she says. “What did he say after you confided in him?”

“He kissed me,” I blurt.

Jessa studies my face. “Did it make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” I state. “He wrapped his arms around me, kissed me fast on the lips, and ran to the other side of the room.”

Okay, so he had to clean up a dead body, but I can’t tell her that.

“You sound disappointed.”

“A little,” I pout. “I didn’t even get to kiss him back.”

“Do you want to kiss him back?” she asks.

I hesitate. “Yeah.”

“But?”

“What if I can’t? What if I freak out?”

“Your feelings are valid,” she assures me. “But I think you’re putting too much pressure on yourself. Take it one step at a time. If Jaxson is half the man you’ve described to me, then he should be comfortable with you taking the lead. Does he pressure you at all?”

I shake my head. “No. That was the first time he’s ever touched me like that. What if the kiss didn’t mean anything?”

“Do you want a relationship with Jaxson, something more than friendship?”

I smile. “I think I do.”

She grins. “My advice, talk to Jaxson. Communication is key in any relationship.”

Am I strong enough to do that? Can I tell Jaxson how much I care for him?

CHAPTER 23

JAXSON

“Remember,I need him to see me,” Aurora repeats like we would forget.

We’re in a booth surrounded by a mass of sweaty bodies gyrating to the rhythm of the live music’s bass. Carver and Hudson sit across from us, wearing matching scowls. They aren’t thrilled with the plan, but this is Aurora’s show and likely the only chance we’ll get to grab Patrick Dows.

“Doesn’t mean we have to like it,” I growl.

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